The Missing Scenes
by Buffybot76
Summary: A series of missing scenes from the movie Sense and Sensibility
1. Default Chapter

Title: The Proposal  
  
Author: Rose  
  
Email: buffybot76@hotmail.com  
  
Rating: G  
  
Genre: Romance  
  
Pairing: Brandon/Marianne  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from the movie Sense and Sensiblility. They belong to their creator Jane Austen.  
  
Distribution: If you want it, just tell me where it's going.  
  
Spoilers: The movie Sense and Sensibility, starring Alan Rickman as Col. Brandon and Kate Winslett as Marianne Dashwood.  
  
Summary: The missing proposal scene from Sense and Sensibility.  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
Mrs. Marianne Brandon sat in the volumous library of Brandon Estate, an open book of sonnets in her lap. Though she was not reading it, her mind was on a certain one. One that had brought her to her senses and brought her happiness as well. In her mind, she went back to the day she had first had the sonnet read to her.   
  
{Flashback}  
  
Col. Brandon had been sitting on the bench beside her lounge chair, a book of sonnets in his hand. She remembered hearing his rich voice, wrapping her in it's velvety tone, as he read.  
  
"Or whether doth my mind being crowned with you  
  
Drink up the monarch's plague this flattery?  
  
Or whether shall I say mine eye saith true,  
  
And that your love taught it this alchemy?  
  
To make of monsters, and things indigest,  
  
Such cherubins as your sweet self resemble,  
  
Creating every bad a perfect best  
  
As fast as objects to his beams assemble:  
  
O 'tis the first, 'tis flattery in my seeing,  
  
And my great mind most kingly drinks it up,  
  
Mine eye well knows what with his gust is 'greeing,  
  
And to his palate doth prepare the cup.  
  
If it be poisoned, 'tis the lesser sin,  
  
That mine eye loves it and doth first begin."  
  
As his melodic voice died off, she turned from staring at the lake, to look at his face. It had been two weeks since she had come to her senses concerning Willoughby. She smiled at him graciously.   
  
"That was beautiful, Colonel. Are you to read another?"  
  
He had shaken his head no, and her face had fell. "I am sorry Miss Marianne, but I have some important business that I should attend to at this time. But rest assured, I shall return."   
  
Her face brightened again, nodding she bid him good day and watched as he got up and left the grounds. She couldn't help but sit and watch his retreating back until she could no longer see it, before turning back around and gazing back over the lake. She collected her thoughts and found that they settled on the man who had just left her side. He was a wonder, indeed, from the first moment they had met up until this moment.  
  
Col. Brandon had surprised her in his offer of companionship on several occasions. And she being the silly child that she was, had threw them off as of no consequence. How foolish she had been. She had been blinded by her infatuation with Willoughby. It had never truly been love, just a silly girl's obsessed with a dream. She thought of all the times that Christopher had come calling, of how rude she had been. Especially when Willoughby was about. Oh, she had been dreadful. But still, he had been there. When she needed him most, he had been there.   
  
It was he who had went after her that night in the storm. Had brought her back to safety, so that she could be tended to. When her fever had taken hold and threatened to end her young life, he had went on a mission to bring her mother to her side. She had been so sure that after everything she had put the poor man through, that he would be done with her.   
  
But no, he had surprised her yet again. sitting with her, reading poetry aloud in that voice of his. Why had she not noticed before how his voice sounded as if it were wrapped in velvet. Every word uttered from his mouth, even if it weren't poetry, sounded like it just the same. When he read to her, she felt free, freer than she had in a long while. Sighing, Marianne rose from her chair and went back into the house with her sisters and mother. It was nearly tea time and she wished to freshen up before then.  
  
Col. Brandon had arrived back on the property in three hours time, and after they had resumed their seats, he opened up a new book.  
  
"A new set of sonnets, Colonel?" Marianne asked, a bit curious as to why he would bother with bringing a book when she had far more than really needed.  
  
"Yes, Marianne. There is one in here that I wish for you to hear." Came his reply.  
  
Marianne nodded her ascent and leaned back into her chair as Col. Brandon began.  
  
"Let me not to the marriage of true minds  
  
Admit impediments, love is not love  
  
Which alters when it alteration finds,  
  
Or bends with the remover to remove.  
  
O no, it is an ever-fixed mark  
  
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;  
  
It is the star to every wand'ring bark,  
  
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.  
  
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks  
  
Within his bending sickle's compass come,  
  
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,  
  
But bears it out even to the edge of doom:  
  
If this be error and upon me proved,  
  
I never writ, nor no man ever loved."  
  
The sonnet had moved her truly, but she had no idea why he had wished for her to hear it. Surely, he did not wish to... No, he couldn't still fancy her that way. Not with how she had mistreated him.  
  
When Col. Brandon finished the last verse, he rose from his seat, moved to kneel beside Marianne and took her small hand into his larger, warm ones. Marianne turned to look at him questioningly.   
  
"Marianne, I know that you have never appreciated my attentions, merely tolerated them. And I do not wish to be bothersome with my affections, but if you tell me now that they are unwanted, then I shall leave here. But if you were to permit me to stay, then there is one question in my heart that is dying to be asked."   
  
Marianne gazed at him a moment before answering. "Colonel, your attentions where never bothersome, niether where your attentions never appreciated. I know I never showed it outwardly, but I truly basked in it. I admit, I was blinded for a time. By my childish dreams and expectations. But I have grown up, and I would endevour to hear the question that your heart wishes to speak." Marianne turned fully then, to show that he had her undivided attention.  
  
Clearing his throat a bit, Col. Brandon reached into his pocket and withdrew something which he kept concealed in his palm. Gazing into her eyes, he began.   
  
"Miss. Dashwood, from the moment that I entered Barton Park and heard your melodious voice, my heart has been yours. I know that you see me as old and unworthy of your time. But this last few weeks spent in your company had been the most cherished of times for me. I dread that they will draw to a close, and I do not wish for that to be."  
  
Marianne's heart began to race at the words being uttered. Was he going to propose? She had thought that she had lost her chance at such a possibility. She almost dared to hope that she had been wrong. That she hadn't lost favor in his eyes.  
  
"And so, I wish to ask you, Miss Marianne Dashwood, if you would concent to be my bride." Brandon finished, as he produced what he had kept palmed for the duration of his speech.   
  
A small velvet box.   
  
Marianne's breath caught and tears sprang to her eyes. She could not utter a word, so shocked was she. Colonel Brandon, saw this and bitter dismay played across his features.   
  
"I-I am sorry, Miss. Dashwood. Forgive my overstepping my boundaries. I should not have spoken of such things." He got to his feet and made as if to leave.   
  
Immediately, Marianne was to her feet. "Wait!" She cried. Brandon stopped mid stride, but did not turn around. "Why do you wish to marry me?" She asked. She wanted to... no, needed to hear him say it.  
  
Turning slowly, Brandon looked the woman who had filled his every waking moment since the moment he had laid eyes on her, in the eyes.  
  
"Because, Miss. Dashwood. I love you. I love you, without reason or consequence. You are everything to me. The air I breath. I worship the ground you walk on. Without you, I feel as if I would go mad. All because, I love you." When he finished his declaration, he was quite unprepared when the young woman thew herself into his arms. He caught her deftly and couldn't stop himself from holding her close for but an instant, before she pulled away again. He saw that she still had tears in her eyes. But there was something else there as well. He sucked in a breath as he realized she was smiling at him.  
  
"Oh, you silly man. I would be honored to be your bride." She said before going into his embrace again.   
  
Brandon closed his eyes and issued up a silent prayer of thanks. Thanks that his dream had come true. And also to pray that he could make hers come true as well.  
  
The end 


	2. Chapter 2: The Preparations

Title: The Preparations  
  
Author: Rose  
  
Email: buffybot76@hotmail.com  
  
Rating: G  
  
Genre: Romance  
  
Pairing: Brandon/Marianne  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from the movie Sense and Sensiblility. They belong to their creator Jane Austen.  
  
Distribution: If you want it, just tell me where it's going.  
  
Spoilers: The movie Sense and Sensibility, starring Alan Rickman as Col. Brandon and Kate Winslett as Marianne Dashwood.  
  
Summary: Another missing scene, where they are preparing for the wedding.  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
Colonel Christopher Brandon was happy. Happier than he had been in a very long while. He was in the middle of preparing for his wedding to, in his opinion, the most beautiful woman on earth. The woman he loved with his whole heart. Marianne Dashwood. The ceremony was to take place in just a few short hours and Brandon was overseeing the servant as he laid out his regiment uniform. He had chosen to wear it instead of the formal attire. The servant finished laying out the clothing and Brandon dismissed him, walking downstairs to his study to pour himself a drink of brandy to calm his somewhat frazzled nerves. He had just brought the snifter to his lips, when Sir John entered the study.   
  
"Ah, there you are, Brandon. I've been looking for you." Sir John said, crossing the room to clap Brandon on the back a little too hard, causing the Colonel to spill his brandy.   
  
Col. Brandon closed his eyes briefly and let out a dispairing sigh.  
  
"Hello, Sir John. So good to see you." Brandon greeted his old friend in a less than enthusiastic tone.  
  
Sir John didn't seem to notice this though, as he proceeded to help himself to the brandy. After taking a drink from his glass, Sir John looked to Brandon to state, "So, it's the big day is it, dear boy?"  
  
*Oh no, please not this.* Col. Brandon began to pray in earnest. He was quite sure that Sir John was on the verge of relating some sort of horror story of what happened on HIS wedding day.  
  
Before the man could begin though, a servant entered the room. "Col. Brandon, sir?" The servant began. "The carriage is ready to be sent for the bridal party, sir."   
  
Col. Brandon nearly leapt forward in his haste to divert the onslaught of a long and drawn out mental torture.  
  
"Yes, very good, Thomas." The Colonel stated as he moved to stand before the servant in the doorway. Col. Brandon turned back to Sir. John. "Sir John, please forgive me, but I must attend to this matter. Shall we continue this little discussion at a later time?"   
  
Sir John nodded his head a bit and said in a joviant voice, "Of course, dear boy. I imagine you have plenty of things to attend to before the ceremony. Off you go, then." He waved Col. Brandon off as he turned to help himself to another snifter of brandy.  
  
Col. Brandon hastened to make his escape and left the study. He walked to the foyer and was just reaching for the doorknob when a knock sounded at the door. Brandon started a bit, then composed himself and opened the door. Instantly, he wished he hadn't when he saw just who his visitor was.  
  
"Mrs. Jennings. What a pleasant surprise." Brandon stated dryly. Sighing deeply, he stepped aside to admit the boisterous, older woman.  
  
But Mrs. Jennings didn't move past him into the foyer. She merely stepped up to him and drew the Colonel into a huge bear hug, all the while exclaiming her happiness for the special occasion. Try as he might, Col. Brandon could not break the hold and finally resigned himself to it. Just when Brandon was fearing his air supply would be cut off, Mrs. Jennings released him and stepped back.  
  
"Well, young man." Mrs. Jennings began. "Just where were we headed off to? I should hope you were not getting cold feet."  
  
Brandon smiled slightly. "No, Mrs. Jennings. I was merely going to send off the carriage to collect Marianne and her party."   
  
"Ahh, well, then go on. You shouldn't keep the girls waiting." Mrs. Jennings said as she practically shoved the Colonel out his own front door.   
  
Col. Brandon sighed again as he stepped off of the porch and started across the grounds to the stables, he couldn't help but wonder if Marianne's nerves were as frazzled as his were.  
  
*~*~*~*~*  
  
Marianne Dashwood was in a state of panic. She was near hypervenitlating as she rushed about her room, gathering the things she would need to bring with her to the church. Her mother had come into the cottage's sitting room and called up to tell her that the carriage Col. Brandon was sending for them should be there at any moment. It was her wedding day and she did NOT want to be late.  
  
"Mother, where is my hat?" She asked, a bit desperately. "It was on the bureau, but now I can't find it!"  
  
Mrs. Dashwood came into the bedroom where her middle daughter was. Taking one look at Marianne she chuckled a bit.   
  
"Have you tried looking on your head, love?" Mrs. Dashwood asked her distraught daughter.  
  
At the dismayed and somewhat embarrassed look that passed over Marianne's pretty face, the elder Dashwood smiled. "Oh dearest Marianne. Don't get yourself in a tangle, love. Everything will be fine."   
  
"But it's my wedding day! Everything has to be perfect." Marianne stated firmly. "I've waited for this moment for too long to have it ruined by something even minuscule."  
  
With that statement, Marianne's features melted into a look of horror. "What if something happens to the carriage and it's late? What if I'M late? What if Christopher decides he doesn't love me? What if-"  
  
Marianne's rambling of 'what if's' were cut off by her mother's stern look. "Now Marianne, listen to me carefully. Everything is going to be alright. The Colonel loves you deeply, anyone with half a brain can tell that. And nothing has happened to the carriage. It will arrive on time and we shall be off to the church, and in no time at all you shall be Mrs. Christopher Brandon."   
  
By the end of her mother's pep talk, Marianne's horrified look had been subdued.  
  
"I just want it to be perfect." Marianne said softly. "Ever since Willoughby..."   
  
Marianne's voice trailed off as she uttered his name. The man she had once thought she was meant to be with. Her one true love and soul mate. The one she was intended to marry. But all those dreams had come crashing down on her. He had said he loved her, but that wasn't true. He had desired her, yes. But love? No, when his inheritance had been stripped from him and he had been faced with poverty, he had sought to marry another. Someone with the wealth that he craved. All of the heart break that she had gone through was due to his lack of loving her, as she had loved him. But she loved him no more. She had come to that realization after the gentle man, who had craved her company and attentions, had declared his love for her.  
  
Throughout her obsession with Willoughby, she had thought Col. Brandon to not fit the image of what she dreamed a soul mate should be. Someone dashing, and brave, and handsome, and romantic. After she had learned of Willoughby's actions, she had pined for him, for the true love she had thought she'd lost. She had nearly done herself in really. Going to that hillside overlooking Willoughby's home, whilst a storm was on the rise. And still, when the first frigid raindrop had touched her skin, she had stayed. She would have stayed there until she had perished, if not for Col. Brandon.  
  
He had come for her, carried her in arms she had not known where strong enough to do so. Taken her back to saftey and then when things had gotten worse, he had gone for mother. Even after that, he had remained by her side, ever faithful. Reading poetry to her on the days when she was still weak and meloncholy. It was during that time, whilst he read those lovely sonnets that she adored so much, that she had realized. He WAS dashing. He WAS brave. And looking at him then, she had to admit that he WAS handsome in a ruffled but elegant way. And OH, was he ever romantic! She had never heard such endearing words, as he had proposed to her that day in the garden behind the cottage. She wondered how she could have ever been blinded to such a wonderous man as Colonel Christopher Brandon.  
  
But he was to be her's now. In just a short time, she was to be his wife. And he her husband. Oh yes, this HAD to be perfect. She was drawn out of her reverie by her mother's voice, declaring that the carriage had arrived. They were to be taken to the church where they would dress and prepare for the ceremony. She had a lovely dress. Her mother's from when she had married their father. With her older sister to be the bride's maid and Sir John to give her away. And the carriage had arrived and now she was off. Off to be married to the one man who could make her dreams come true.  
  
Marianne looked around the bedroom that she had shared with Elinor whilst they had lived here. Up until Elinor had married Edward Ferrars two weeks ago that is. And now it was her turn. Marianne smiled a wistful smile and walked out of the bedroom. Exiting the cottage, she saw the footman helping her mother and Elinor inside. Taking a deep breath, she practically skipped as she went to the carriage.  
  
Before she knew it, they were off to the church. She was off to be married.  
  
The End  
  
Next: The Ceremony 


	3. Chapter 3: The Ceremony

Title: The Ceremony  
  
Author: Rose  
  
Email: buffybot76@hotmail.com  
  
Rating: G  
  
Genre: Romance  
  
Pairing: Col. Brandon/Marianne  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from the movie Sense and Sensiblility. They belong to their creator Jane Austen.  
  
Distribution: If you want it, just tell me where it's going.  
  
Spoilers: The movie Sense and Sensibility, starring Alan Rickman as Col. Brandon and Kate Winslett as Marianne Dashwood.  
  
Summary: This is the wedding ceremony we didn't get to see in the movie, or at least, my take on it.  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
The Barton Village churchyard was crowded with horses and carriages. People milled about, men helping the women down from their seats. Little boys trying their best to get thier nice suits dirty, and little girls hovering with thier mother's until time to go inside the church.  
  
Inside the church, in a small room near the front, Elinor Farrars helped Marianne Dashwood straighten her wedding dress and keep the young woman calm at the same time. She was constantly pacing the room, from the mirror on the far wall, to the door leading out into the church. Elinor paced behind her, turning the train of the dress every time Marianne changed direction. After the fifteenth turn, Elinor had had enough.   
  
"Marianne! Please, calm down. Everything is going to be fine!" She cried, as Marianne yet again did an about face.   
  
"But Elinor, what if I trip going down the isle. What would Col. Brandon say? Surely he wouldn't want a clumsy wife. And what if-"  
  
Again, Marianne's 'what if's' were cut off with a glare, this time from Elinor.   
  
"Marianne, if you haven't tripped by now, you're not going to." Elinor commented, when her sister yet again turned in her pacing. Elinor grabbed the young woman by her shoulders, forcing her to stand still. Looking her sister in the eye, she tried again. "Marianne, stop worrying. This is your wedding day. You are marrying a wonderful man who loves you dearly, 'tis a beautiful day, and guests are arriving by the minute. What could go wrong?"  
  
Marianne's face filled with horror. "You've jinxed us, you know that?" She said in a panicked voice.   
  
Elinor shook her head. "No, I did NOT jinx us. Stop being superstitious and help me to straighten my dress."   
  
After that, Elinor turned so that both sisters were facing the mirror, side by side. "Now see, perfect. We make a pair, don't we sis?" Elinor teased her younger sibling.   
  
"Of course." Marianne replied with a smile. Then she turned and gave her sister a tight hug, careful not to crush the gown. After she had released her, Marianne smiled. "Thank you, Elinor, for being here. I know I can always count on you."  
  
Both sisters smiled then, before going back to straightening and fixing things. It was almost time for the ceremony to begin.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Col. Brandon stood, decked out in his crimson regiment uniform, complete with medals and sword. He and Sir. John were at the front of the church, near the podium, with the parson who would be performing the wedding. The guests were being seated and talking among themselves. Mrs. Jennings had seated herself at the organ so that she could begin the wedding march when the time came. Even though, on the outside, Brandon looked calm, on the inside, he was a large bundle of nerves. Much like his intended. Taking deep cleansing breaths, he tried to calm himself.  
  
"I say, dear boy, I have not seen you look as regal as you do at this moment. Your young bride is sure to swoon as soon as she graces the entrance." Sir. John was just saying.   
  
He had been keeping the parson and the Colonel occupied while they waited for the bride to get ready. Soon Mrs. Dashwood approached them and whispered into Sir. John's ear. Looking up at Brandon, Sir. John smiled.  
  
"It appears our dear Miss. Dashwood is ready to become Mrs. Brandon." He said happily, clapping Brandon on the shoulder as he started off toward the entrance. He called over his shoulder as he left. "Don't worry Brandon, ol' boy. I'll bring her to you in a jiffy."  
  
Mrs. Jennings noticed where he was going and began flexing her fingers, preparing to play.  
  
The guests all quieted as she began a little tune to announce that they were about ready to begin. Brandon took another deep cleansing breath, poised himself, and waited.  
  
*~*~*~*~*  
  
At Sir. John's knock, Elinor opened the door.   
  
"I've heard tell that the blushing bride is ready." Sir. John teased.  
  
Elinor smiled at the man. "Yes, she is just getting her bouquet."   
  
Marianne came to the door then, a smile brightened her face, her eyes shining with excitement and happiness. "Yes, Sir. John, I am ready."  
  
"Very well then, Elinor, if you will take your place at the entrance. I believe Edward is waiting for you." Sir. John pointed out.  
  
Elinor smiled, gave her sister a peck on the cheek, and went to stand beside her husband.  
  
"Now then, young lady, how's about we go about getting you married, then?" Sir. John said, extending his elbow to Marianne, who curled her arm into his with a smile.  
  
"Oh yes, Sir. John, please do." She replied kindly.  
  
"Well then, what are we waiting for?" He laughed, leading her to stand behind Elinor and Edward.  
  
The doors were eased open and Elinor and Edward made thier way slowly down the isle. It seemed to take forever, but finally they made it. As soon as they had taken thier places. Edward, just off to the left of Col. Brandon, Elinor to the right of where Marianne would be standing in just a few short minutes. Swiftly, the music changed, and the wedding march was being played. Marianne kept her head bowed as she concentrated on her steps. She was still worried that she might trip. She was halfway down the isle, when she felt confident enough to look up. The sight that met her eyes when she did, was breathtaking.  
  
Col. Brandon looked absolutely dashing. His uniform was crisp and well molded to his frame. His hair neatly styled, but still held a tousled look, which only made him look even better. She simply couldn't take her eyes off of him. She saw he had a wierd look on his face, and wondered what he was thinking.  
  
Col. Brandon was awestruck. This beautiful creature was marrying HIM? How had he warranted such a gift? She was purely angelic in the wedding gown. A veil adorned with flowers. When she had looked up at him, and thier eyes had locked, he didn't think he would be able to stand much longer. His knees had become so weak. It became torturously drawn out, as it seemed to take forever for her and Sir. John to reach the alter. But finally, at long last, she was beside him. Looking into her eyes, he smiled tenderly. She returned the smile, then both turned to look at the parson who had begun to speak.  
  
"We welcome you today to the marriage of Colonel Christopher Brandon and Miss. Marianne Dashwood. We are met together in the presence of God to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony. This is indeed a joyful time, in which we witness the love of these two people expressed in the joining of their lives together for life. So we invite you to join with us, as participants in this service, not only to witness this union, but to renew your own commitment to your husband, or wife.  
  
Ladies and Gentlemen, marriage is of God. It is ordained of heaven. It is the first and holiest institution among men. God Himself gave the first bride away. God Himself performed the first wedding ceremony. In the Garden of Eden, God Himself hallowed and sanctified the first home. And so, as we gather here today, we recognize that marriage is an act of God and not of man.   
  
May we pray.  
  
Our Father, as Christopher and Marianne come to commit themselves this day to one another, we ask that Your blessing and Your grace be shed upon them. May Christopher and Marianne, these two, be made one today Father, and may their union be made pleasing in Your sight through Jesus Christ our Lord, Amen."  
  
Turning to the couple, the parson continued.   
  
"Christopher . . . , Marianne . . . , Marriage is a covenant of faith and trust between a man and woman requiring openness of life and thought, freedom from doubt and suspicion, and commitment to speak the truth in love to one another.  
  
Marriage, therefore, is a covenant of love in which both husband and wife empty themselves of their own concerns, and take upon themselves the concerns of each other as they love and care for one another.  
  
Do you both come freely, and without reservation, desiring to commit yourselves to one another in this covenant of marriage?"  
  
Marianne and Col. Brandon turned to one another and whispered as one.   
  
"We do."  
  
The parson smiled widely, then proceeded on.  
  
"Christopher, will you have Marianne to be your wedded wife, to live together in the covenant of marriage? Will you love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, be faithful to her as long as you both shall live?"  
  
Col. Brandon had an ecstatic look on his face as he spoke. "I will."  
  
"Marianne, will you have Christopher to be your wedded husband, to live together in the covenant of marriage? Will you love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, be faithful to him as long as you both shall live?"   
  
Marianne's voice rang clear. "I will."  
  
"Who gives Marianne to be married to Christopher?" The parson asked.  
  
Sir. John piped up quickly with his part. "I do, sir." The parson nodded, then spoke again.  
  
"Real love is something beyond the warmth and glow, the excitement and romance of being deeply in love. It is caring as much about the welfare and happiness of your marriage partner as about your own. But real love is not total absorption in each other; it is looking outward in the same direction - together. Love makes burdens lighter, because you divide them. It makes joys more intense, because you share them. It makes you stronger, so you can reach out and become involved with life in ways you dared not risk alone. And now, if the couple would hold hands please."  
  
Col. Brandon moved to take Marianne's hands into his own. And then, looking into each other's eyes, they began their vows.  
  
"I, Christopher Brandon, take you, Marianne Dashwood, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until we are parted by death. This is my solemn vow."  
  
Tears were shining in Marianne's eyes as she spoke her's.  
  
"I, Marianne Dashwood, take you, Christopher Brandon, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until we are parted by death. This is my solemn vow."  
  
Then the parson spoke again.  
  
"Christopher, do you possess a token of your love and affection to give to your bride, a seal of this holy covenant?   
  
"I do." The Colonel replied.  
  
"What is it?" The parson asked.  
  
"A ring." Col. Brandon stated, producing said ring.  
  
"In all ages and among all peoples, the ring has been a symbol of that which is measureless; and thus, in this holy hour, a symbol of your measureless, boundless devotion. It is a circle; it has neither beginning nor ending; so your commitment should also be unending. It is gold; which is precious; so also is your commitment precious. And the sign and seal of this commitment will be this ring. As a ceaseless reminder of this sacred committal, place this ring on the wedding finger of your bride and repeat after me." The parson said.  
  
Col. Brandon listened to the words, then repeated them back, all the while looking into Marianne's eyes.  
  
"As a symbol of my vow, with this ring, I thee wed, with loyal love, I thee endow, all my worldly goods, with thee I share, and with them I give you myself."  
  
The parson asked the same of Marianne. She too, produced a ring.  
  
"Invested with the same significance as the ring you have just received, so this ring is a circle of precious gold indicating the longevity of your love and the pricelessness of your devotion. Place this ring on the wedding finger of your husband and repeat after me."  
  
As the Colonel had done before her, Marianne listend to the words, then repeated them while staring into Col. Brandon's eyes.  
  
"As a symbol of my vow, with this ring, I thee wed, with loyal love, I thee endow, all my worldly goods, with thee I share, and with them I give you myself."  
  
And then came the closing.  
  
"If there is anyone here, who has any just reason why these two should not be joined. Let him speak now, or forever hold his peace."  
  
The parson waited a moment and when no one spoke up, opened his mouth to continue. But before he could, the front doors to the church burst open, startling the gathered crowd. Everyone, including the couple being married, turned to stare at who had interrupted. Marianne gasped as Willoughby strode into the church.  
  
"Stop!" He cried out, as he continued up the isle until he stood before Marianne.  
  
Marianne, looked to Col. Brandon and saw that his face was drawn in with tempered fury. Willoughby took Marianne's hands in his and led her away down the isle a few feet. Stopping, he turned to face her.  
  
"Marianne, I cannot allow this to happen. I love you! And you love me, I know it. I made a wrong decision, I know that now. But I want to be with you, no other. And you can't possibly want to marry that... that..."  
  
Willoughby did not get to finish his speech, for Marianne held up a hand to silence him. Looking back over her shoulder to the distraught looking Colonel. She hid the smile that was threatening to appear. She looked back to Willoughby then and spoke.  
  
"Willoughby, I gave you my heart to do with as you wished. To hold, to cherish, to care for with your very being. And you chose to break it." She then turned to look at Col. Brandon. "I have everything I have ever wanted right here." She turned to Willoughby. "Go home to your wife, Willoughby. There is a wedding to be finished here." With that, Marianne turned her back on the man who had threw her love away for fifty thousand pounds and no thought to the consequence of her heart.   
  
Willoughby stood frozen, staring at Marianne's retreating back as she went to stand once more by Col. Brandon's side. He swallowed hard, looking around at the wedding guests who stared openly at him. A look of resignation slipped over his face, as he nodded to Mrs. Dashwood, who sat in a nearby pew. She glared at him disapprovingly and he flinched, looking away. Slowly, Willoughby backed down the isle until he was through the doors. Then, he was gone.  
  
The audience then turned their attention back to the front of the church, where Col. Brandon and Marianne were looking at one another. He, with disbelief and joy. She, with reassurance and love. The parson cleared his throat once, and concluded the ceremony.  
  
"For as much as Christopher and Marianne have consented together in holy wedlock, and have witnessed the same before God and this assembly, and have committed themselves completely to each other in the covenant of marriage, I do pronounce that they are now husband and wife according to the law of God. What God has joined together, no man may put asunder. You may kiss the bride."  
  
Col. Brandon then drew Marianne into his arms and placed the gentlest of kisses upon her lips. Marianne returned it wholeheartedly. Finally, they drew apart, but never did thier eyes break contact.  
  
Turning the newlyweds toward the crowded pews, the parson then stated.  
  
"Ladies and Gentlemen, it is my pleasure to present to you Mr. & Mrs. Christopher Brandon."  
  
The roar of the applause and cheers that rose up from the assembled guests was deafening. Marianne and Col. Brandon walked then toward the exit of the church. The guests following them in procession. Both wore the brightest expressions of happiness that could ever grace one's face. The church bells start to peal, and a great cheer goes up as the door opens and Betsy comes out holding the bridal cake aloft. The bride and groom appear, arm in arm. Behind them come Edward with Elinor on his arm. Marianne and Brandon make their way forwards, everyone throws their flowers over them, whooping and singing.  
  
An open carriage decked with bridal wreaths is drawn up to meet them  
  
and Brandon lifts Marianne in, before climbing in beside her. According to the custom of the time, Brandon throws a large handful of six pences into the crowd, and the villiage children jump and dive for them. The coins spin and bounce, catching the sun like jewels. One hits Fanny in the eye. She reels and falls over backwards into a bush. As the procession makes it's way from the church, a figure is watching from atop a white horse. It is Willoughby, and as the carriage draws out of sight, he slowly pulls the horse around and moves off in the opposite direction.  
  
The End  
  
Next: The Honeymoon 


	4. Chapter 4: The Honeymoon

Hello dear readers,  
  
I hope you have been enjoying my fic so far and due to the rating on the next chapter I am unable to post it here. But if you wish to read it and are over the age of 18, then please email me at: buffybot76@hotmail..com and I will be happy to forward chapter 4: The Honeymoon to you. Now that I have this formality over with, on to chapter 5: The Arrival!  
  
Rose aka Buffybot76 


	5. Chapter 5: The Arrival

Title: The Arrival  
  
Author: Rose  
  
Email: buffybot76@hotmail.com  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Genre: Drama/Romance  
  
Pairing: Brandon/Marianne  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from the movie Sense and Sensiblility. They belong to their creator Jane Austen.  
  
Distribution: If you want it, just tell me where it's going.  
  
Spoilers: The movie Sense and Sensibility, starring Alan Rickman as Col. Brandon and Kate Winslett as Marianne Dashwood.  
  
Summary: Okay, you all know the little rhyme, first comes love, then comes marriage.... well, we all know what comes next, right?  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
Note #1: I was inspired by Laura to do this, I hope I haven't worn myself out with this. Hope you enjoy!  
  
Note #2: A big thank you to Denise for being my sounding board as I wrote this. It was very challenging to say the least. Thanks, D!!  
  
Colonel Christopher Brandon was in a state of anxiety as he paced the hallway outside of the bedroom. Just inside, his wife lay in the pains of labour. He had been adamant in his resolve to stay at his wife's side, but having been almost bodily forced out of the room as the critical moment approached, he had been reduced to useless pacing. An unconscious reenactment of another time when he had paced the halls outside of another room, where this same woman had fought an illness which threatened to take her life. Now, she was fighting again. Fighting to bring their first child into the world.   
  
At each heartwrenching cry that came from behind the closed door, Brandon had to restrain himself from barging through the door, to be at his beloved's side. He knew his presence would only hinder the doctor and Mrs. Dashwood as they set about the delivery of the child. His child. Upon what seemed like the hundredth pass by the bedroom door, a servant approached Col. Brandon with the news that there were visitors downstairs.  
  
"Sir, Mr. and Mrs. Ferrars are downstairs, along with young Miss Margaret." The servant said.  
  
Col. Brandon was brought up short in his pacing and nodding to the servant, turned to go downstairs to greet his guests. When he reached the foyer where his guests stood, he opened his mouth to welcome them. Only to find himself the target of a barrage of questions from the youngest Dashwood daughter.  
  
"Col. Brandon, how is Marianne? Has the baby come yet? Is it a boy or a girl? Where is my mother? Does she know?"  
  
Col. Brandon halted the girl's interrogation concerning her sister and mother by inviting them into the study. The three followed behind Brandon as he led the way. Once they entered the study, Brandon headed straight for the brandy to pour himself a tumblerful. His nerves were as frazzled now, as they had been on the day of his and Marianne's wedding day. He was stopped when a hand came up to still his own.  
  
"Wouldn't a prayer be more appropriate at this time, Colonel." Edward asked quietly, so as not frighten Elinor or upset Margaret. He silently urged Brandon to put down the bottle of amber liquid.   
  
Brandon smiled ruefully at the clergyman in front of him. Although he felt that he could certainly use the brandy at this moment, he was pretty sure that he didn't need it. He nodded his assent and replaced the bottle back under the bar. He smiled an apologetic smile at the two women, trying his best to assure them as well as himself.  
  
"I am sure that everything is going well, Maragaret. As for your mother, she does indeed know. In fact, she is upstairs assisting the doctor as we speak." Brandon spoke in his smooth voice.  
  
"Perhaps a prayer would be in order, if you please Edward." The Colonel motioned for Elinor and Margaret to come closer. Clasping hands, the group formed a small circle and bowed their heads. Edward then proceeded to lead them in a prayer on behalf of Marianne and her yet to be born child.   
  
"Dear Heavenly Father, we come before you in prayer to ask that you watch over your beloved daughter Mrs. Marianne Brandon, as she prepares to deliver a new life unto Your beautiful world...."  
  
*~*~*~*~*  
  
A bloodcurdling scream filled the upstairs bedroom, where Marianne Brandon lay in a bed of sweat drenched sheets, as a particularly vicious contraction hit. Mrs. Dashwood sat beside her daughter, gingerly mopping the young woman's forehead with a damp cloth, all the while murmuring comforting words into her ear.  
  
"Now, now Marianne, it'll all be over soon. Just keep calm and before you know it, you'll have a beautiful son or daughter of your very own. Isn't that wonderful, dear?" Mrs. Dashwood cooed to her exhausted daughter.  
  
Marianne, though try as she might, could not manage to calm down as another labor pain took over her already pain-wracked body. It was when the contraction had passed that the doctor spoke.  
  
"Alright then, Mrs. Brandon, when the next contraction passes, I need you to bear down for me. Do you understand?" The doctor spoke in a kind, and reassuring voice.  
  
Marianne nodded wearily, and gathering up what little strength she possessed, prepared to push.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Downstairs, new guests had arrived and were being shown into the study. Col. Brandon suppressed a groan as Mrs. Jennings and Sir. John entered the room.   
  
"Col. Brandon, how are you holding up, dear boy? Is there anything I can do to help. I'm sure Mrs. Dashwood probably wouldn't mind an extra hand in there. Another woman with experience, you know." Mrs. Jennings began heading for the stairs, but was intercepted by Elinor, who placing her arms around the stout woman's shoulders, steered her toward the kitchen.   
  
"Perhaps we would be more useful in preparing refreshments for the good doctor and Mrs. Dashwood. And I am equally sure that Col. Brandon is quite famished. Aren't you Colonel?" Elinor gave Col. Brandon a pleading look over Mrs. Jennings shoulder.   
  
Col. Brandon needed no prompting and gave Elinor a thankful look.   
  
"Yes, that I am, and I am sure that Sir. John could use a bit of tea as well." Brandon looked over at the man who heading for the bar.  
  
Mrs. Jennings and Elinor left the study to fetch the tea, while Margaret took the time to thank Edward for leading them in prayer. She made a point of eyeing Sir. John as she said this, seeing that the man was about to invade the brandy. Sir John instantly looked contrite as he set the brandy back on the shelf.   
  
It seemed like no time at all when Mrs. Jennings and Elinor reentered the study, Elinor carrying a silver tray piled high with crumpets and finger sandwiches. Mrs. Jennings followed behind with a similar tray, this one held tea cups and a pot filled with piping hot tea.   
  
"Oh, look Sir. John, here's the refreshments." Margaret commented, taking the elder man by the arm and propelling him toward one of the plush armchairs.  
  
Everyone occupying the study were settled in a seat, Elinor had leaned forward to pour another round of tea, when Marianne's grief stricken scream drifted down from the bedroom and into the study.  
  
"NOOO!"  
  
Col. Brandon was to his feet in a heartbeat and making for the stairs when a sobbing Mrs. Dashwood descended to give them the heartbreaking news.  
  
"The baby is breech, Colonel. The doctor is trying to turn it, but he's having trouble..."   
  
Brandon heard no more past the first sentence, for he was dashing up the stairs by then, Edward following closely behind. Back in the doorway of the study, Mrs. Jennings was doing her best to comfort Elinor, while Mrs. Dashwood held a sobbing Margaret in her arms. Sir. John drifted to the foot of the stairs, undecided on whether he should follow or remain downstairs with the distraught women. Brandon had made it to the second floor landing when he felt Edward's hand on his shoulder, but he simply shrugged it off and continued down the hallway. He reached for the doorknob, preparing to fling open the door so that he could be by his beloved, his Marianne's side.   
  
At that moment a sound issued from the room. A sound which stilled his hand. A sound that he had dreaded for an instant would not grace his ears. The lusty cries of a baby. The wave of relief that washed over Col. Brandon then nearly overwhelmed him. He heard a rustle behind him as Edward hurried back down the hall to assure the stricken women downstairs that everything was fine, that the danger had passed. Col. Brandon took the moment of solitude as a chance to collect himself before allowing his hand to finish the task of reaching and opening the door. Though he had his wits about him, a sheen of sweat still graced his brow. The door creaked open bit by bit until finally opening all the way, Col. Brandon's form filling the archway. The scene that lay before him nearly stole his breath away.  
  
There, amidst a swath of sweat drenched cotton sheets, lay his wife. A small bundle cuddled to her chest. The sounds of a baby happily feeding from it's mother's breast filled the room, causing a broad smile to appear on the Colonel's face. He stood there, frozen in place, not really knowing what to do next. The doctor approached him then, offering his hand to the dumbstruck Colonel.  
  
"Congratulations, Col. Brandon. You have a beautiful baby girl. Though I do say, she is just as stubborn as her mother." The doctor smiled as Brandon accepted his hand, pumping it enthusiastically as reality kicked in.  
  
He had a daughter.   
  
Col. Brandon, nodded to the doctor in thanks for all he had done. The doctor left the room then to go relay the news to the others. Brandon slowly made his way to the bed. Marianne looked up, meeting her husband's eyes with a look of pure adoration and love.  
  
"Oh Christopher, come. Come and see your daughter." Marianne urged. "Isn't she just the loveliest thing you have ever seen?"  
  
Col. Brandon sat gently on the bed beside his wife then as she gently tugged back the blanket so that he could see the baby's features. It was beautiful. Perfect really, with her little chubby cheeks and rosebud shaped lips that were hungrily suckling at Marianne's breast. The hair on top of her head was as downy as a kitten's fur. He had dreaded the child would inherit his nose, but was relieved to see that it had not. Her nose was perfect, as was the rest of her.  
  
"Would you care to hold her, Christopher?" Marianne inquired.   
  
She watched in amusement as a look of abject terror flitted across her husband's face. Brandon all but leapt from the bed, sputtering all the while about fetching Marianne a cup of tea. He turned to find his escape route cut off though, as both Margaret and Elinor entered, followed closely by Mrs. Dashwood, Jennings and the men. Sighing in defeat, Brandon turned back to his highly amused wife. Marianne arched a brow at her husband then, as a look of askance entered her eyes.   
  
Apprehensively, Brandon retraced his steps back to the bed, a look of dread filling his face. With shaking hands he reached for the delicate bundle which Marianne held out for him to take. As the weight of his child settled in his arms, a new emotion took place of the dread.  
  
Joy.  
  
A smile emerged that nearly split Brandon's face in two, as he beamed down at the precious child he had helped to create. Tears of joy flooded his eyes then, streaming freely down his cheeks. Margaret moved closer to take a peek at her brand new neice. Brandon looked to her briefly, and in a voice thicker than usual, he spoke coherently for the first time since entering the room.  
  
A smile emerged that nearly split Brandon's face in two, as he beamed down at the precious child he had helped to create. Tears of joy flooded his eyes then, streaming freely down his cheeks. Margaret moved closer to take a peek at her brand new neice. Brandon looked to her briefly, and in a voice thicker than usual, he spoke for the first time since entering the room.  
  
"She's perfect." He murmured softly. He turned to Marianne then, to stare as if mesmerized. "What shall we name her?"  
  
Marianne looked thoughtful for a moment before a smile inched it's way onto her face. "It think... Margaret Rose Brandon. What do you think, dear?"  
  
The youngest Dashwood let out a gasp of surprise at this, turning to look first to her smiling mother, then to the others gathered in the doorway.  
  
"Ah yes, the perfect namesake my dear. The Colonel and your sister has always gotten along well. Haven't you Brandon?" Mrs. Jenning gushed, happy to put her two cents worth in.  
  
Col. Brandon smiled tenderly at Margaret then. "Indeed we have. And I think Margaret would be the perfect name for such a perfect child."  
  
Mrs. Dashwood moved forward then and took her grandchild so that Brandon could go to his wife, which he did, enveloping her in his strong arms and applying a gentle kiss to her forehead. Resting his cheek atop her head, Col. Brandon whispered a silent thank you to the heavenly Father for blessing them so graciously. Pulling back slightly, he gazed lovingly into his wife's eyes.  
  
"I love you, Marianne." He uttered softly.  
  
"And I you, Christopher." Came the soft reply.  
  
Completely ignoring the audience that stood smiling in the archway of the door, Christopher Brandon kissed his beloved Marianne then. Thanking her for giving him a gift like no other.   
  
A family.  
  
*~*~*~*~*  
  
The End   
  
  
  
Next: The Gift 


	6. Chapter 6: The Gift

Title: The Gift  
  
Author: Rose  
  
Email: buffybot76@hotmail.com  
  
Rating: G   
  
Genre: Romance  
  
Pairing: Col. Brandon/Marianne  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from the movie Sense and Sensiblility. They belong to their creator Jane Austen.  
  
Summary: A S&S Valentine fic.  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
*It never fails." Marianne Brandon thought to herself as the first raindrop dampened the back of her hand.   
  
It seemed she was destined to never finish a walk without inciting the wrath of Mother Nature, for everytime she ventured out for a stroll it never failed to rain.   
  
Sighing, Marianne turned and retraced her steps, desperately trying to beat the downpour of rain. Hurry as she might, she still found herself soaked through by the time she entered the front door.  
  
"Oh, my Lady, you are drenched!" Exclaimed the maid as she came into the foyer, taking in the sight of Marianne's dripping wet dress and cloak. "Come, let's get you out of those before you catch your death."  
  
Marianne knew the words were not intended to sound as they had, but the reminder of the near tragic incident from the past caused Marianne to shudder involuntarily. Taking it for a sign, the maid hastened to clothe Marianne in a clean, dry robe as she searched the wardrobe. Before long, a dress of pale blue Gingham appeared, as well as the required undergarments: pantaloons, stockings, garters and corset--the latter being an item Marianne thought to be totally unnecessary, if not downright uncomfortable.  
  
Once fully attired again, Marianne left her bedroom to enter the nursery where little Maggie--barely a year old-- lay sleeping in her crib. Kneeling down, Marianne laid her left arm along the rail and rested her chin upon it. With her right arm, she reached into the crib to lightly stroke the sleeeping infant's downy hair.  
  
It never ceased to amaze Marianne that she and her husband had created this little miracle. Removing her hand, Marianne watched her daughter sleep for a moment longer, before rising and quietly leaving the room.   
  
Stopping before a servant in the hallway, she asked, "Where is my husband?"  
  
"Oh, Col. Brandon said to tell you that he had business in town and would be back later, Mrs. Brandon."  
  
Marianne felt a wave of disappointment wash over her.  
  
*Why today?* She thought dismally. *Of all the days to be doing business, why Valentine's Day?*  
  
She knew it was silly to think that an older man such as Christopher would indulge in things such as bringing her chocolates and flowers. He had done so before when he was attempting to court her, and she had treated him dreadfully then. Now, when she so wanted it, she was sure he would have had enough of such trivialties.  
  
"Thank you." She told the servant, then continued down the hall until she reached the Library.  
  
She considered it to be her sanctuary, a place to go and read her sonnets, whether aloud or to herself was her choice. Or to think over her problems and concerns when she felt unsure of discussing them with Christopher.   
  
Taking her favorite book of sonnets from the shelf, marianne sank down into the plush armchair and opened it.   
  
A folded piece of paper fluttered from where it had been tucked within the interior of the book and fluttered into her lap. Picking it up, Marianne unfolded the scrap of paper and read what was written upon it.  
  
Dearest Marianne,  
  
Forgive me, my love, for not being with you this morning on such an important day such as this. If you would allow me to make it up to you, I am most postiive you shall not be disappointed. My business will be over at noon and by one I shall be waiting under the willow tree by the lake should you wish to join me.  
  
All My Love,   
  
Christopher  
  
Refolding the note, Marianne smiled to herself, once more reassured that her husband indeed loved her and would make this Valentine's Day a day she would remember forever. Rising from her chair, Marianne placed the book back on its shelf and--taking Christopher's note with her--walked out into the hall to look at the grandfather clock set against the far wall.  
  
11: 15  
  
She had 45 minutes before she would meet her beloved at the lake. Smiling bemusedly, Marianne turned and headed upstairs for the bedroom. She had to get ready.  
  
After nearly a half hour of fussing over getting her hair "just right" and pinning on the broach that Christopher had gotten her for Christmas, Marianne realized that she had better hurry if she did not want to be late. Grabbing her cloak from the rack by the door, Marianne called out to the nanny that she would be back late and instructed her to look after Maggie until she returned. When Marianne opened the door, she noticed that it had miraculously stopped raining and the sun was shining. Smiling, Marianne swept out the door to go and join her beloved husband at the lake.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
She left her horse grazing on the hillside and walked the rest of the way to the lake. She found him looking out over the lake, his back to her. A smile spread across her face. She felt she was undeserving of such a wonderful man, but could not help but thank the Heavenly Father for giving her such a gift as Christopher Brandon . Quietly, Marianne came up behind him, raising up on tiptoes so that she could cover his eyes with her hands as she began whispering the beginning of their favorite sonnet in his ear.  
  
"Those lines that I before have writ do lie,  
  
Even those that said I could not love you dearer,  
  
Yet then my judgment knew no reason why,  
  
My most full flame should afterwards burn clearer,  
  
But reckoning time, whose millioned accidents  
  
Creep in 'twixt vows, and change decrees of kings,  
  
Tan sacred beauty, blunt the sharp'st intents,  
  
Divert strong minds to the course of alt'ring things."  
  
Though she could not see his face, she knew that he was smiling, as he Reached up and took her hands in his and brought them from his eyes. Turning to face his beloved wife, Brandon picked up the next verse in the deep silky baritone that held enchantment in its depths.  
  
"Alas why fearing of time's tyranny,  
  
Might I not then say 'Now I love you best,'  
  
When I was certain o'er incertainty,  
  
Crowning the present, doubting of the rest?  
  
Love is a babe, then might I not say so  
  
To give full growth to that which still doth grow."  
  
Bringing a hand up, Brandon caressed her cheek lightly. Marianne closed her eyes as Brandon bent slightly to brush a light kiss over his young wife's lips.   
  
"I love you, Marianne. Say you forgive me for leaving this morning."  
  
Marianne laughed. Of course she forgave him... how could she not? He was her savior... her lover... her friend and confidante. He was her husband.   
  
"I love you, Christopher." She murmured, as she drank from his lips again. The sweet headiness of his kisses making her drunk with desire. It never failed to.  
  
Pulling away, Brandon led Marianne to a blanket that had been spread out beneath the willow tree and assisted her as she sat, then settled down beside her. Reaching into his coat pocket, he withdrew a small velvet box, and for a moment Marianne was--in her mind--transported back to the day he had proposed. The words he had said filled her heart, specifically three special words.  
  
I Love You.   
  
He had said the words that she had longed to hear that day, and every day since, and she thought she would never tire of hearing them.  
  
Brandon held the small box out to Marianne in offering. She took it, breaking the connection her eyes had with his own to look down at the contents held within when she opened it. Inside, she found a beautiful ivory broach affixed to a delicate gold chain. Upon closer inspection, she noticed that the likeness of the figure on the broach held a striking resemblance to her own. With tears in her eyes, Marianne looked to Brandon; the love she held for this man filling her entire being, becoming visibly apparent in her blue eyes.  
  
"T'was made especially for you, my love. Happy Valentine's Day." Brandon murmured, as he leaned forward and placed a whisper of a kiss up on her neck.   
  
Marianne sighed at the sensation that the contact of his lips to her flesh sent through her. Closing her eyes, Marianne smiled as she brought her right hand up to rest on the back of her husband's neck, drawing him nearer to her.  
  
Brandon traced the curve of where her neck and shoulder met, trailing it with gentle kisses. Marianne felt at that moment as if life could not be more perfect.   
  
But then, when Brandon moved up to capture her lips once again with his own, it did.  
  
*~*~The End~*~* 


End file.
